


Solstice

by Darkest_Day



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Hope vs. Despair, The Dawning (Destiny)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkest_Day/pseuds/Darkest_Day
Summary: "She says the Dawning is for everyone," he replies. "Even you."
Relationships: Uldren Sov & Eva Levante
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://www.ishtar-collective.net/entries/amnestia-s2)

The air is bright and fresh, he admires the view from the pathway he's chosen. He casts a look back at the door, he has tried to open it but it won't budge so down the mountain he goes. He's agile enough to get down easily, the strange little drone follows behind him obediently with occasional bursts of chatter. It's a happy little thing, always cheery and eager to show him everything. They'd spoken before, shortly after he woke up for the first time with no idea who or where he was. He showed him the City. It was where they were going to go, he told him everyone was so kind and helpful, that he would surely love it there. He liked the idea, he liked a lot of ideas. This Ghost filled his head with stories of other worlds, he had nothing to share but he listened.

After some confusion, he was excited. There were so many places to see and things to explore. He pauses at the bottom of the mountain where he could hear the hum of activity just over one more ledge. He stops to look back at the Ghost who practically beams at him. "First stop," he starts, "the City." And this was the first step to getting there. 

He heads over the ledge and lands on flat ground, there are no slopes here, just a winding road. It hasn't taken him long and he doesn't have a weapon so he needs to move quickly. He makes his way along the pathway, up ahead he sees another Guardian idly fiddling with a gun. In the distance the groan of creatures he's only heard stories of.

The Guardian finally looks up, through the helmet he can't read any expression. He waves as he approaches.

The bullets rain down on him, they shred his body and the pain is—

Then it stops.

Then he wakes up on the ground with the Ghost hovering sadly over him. "Wh-what?" He murmurs, sitting up.

"You died, I'm sorry. Guardians don't usually turn on each other, I'm not sure what happened," he sounds honest but something feels off. He hears a noise in the distance that draws his attention briefly. Trigger-happy, maybe. On edge, if someone comes out of nowhere in a warzone it makes sense they might react like that. He decides to take another path, winding through trees and rubble and dodging the sight of those strange aliens. Creatures that have skin that looks more like a crust that scratch and claw at the ground and other ones, big ones, with pieces of armour that scrape together with glowing eyes. He thinks he can take them on if he had something to use.

The clearing is dusted with fog and morning dew, he walks slow. He's a little on edge from the encounter earlier but keeps going. He catches a whiff of something that smells stale and sweet in the air. It's musty too, he chooses to go around and avoid whatever is making that smell. In the distance he can see someone standing on a perch up high, there are a number of boxes around her so he makes his way up the pathway. She looks important, she looks like she has a place here with the way she stands on guard overlooking the distance. He rounds the corner as she turns to look at him, her one eye widens as she draws her gun. She's on him in a second, barrel digging into his chest. "What the hell are you doing here?" She hisses. "Get out of here you piece of-"

He holds up his hands, "yeah, okay. I got it," and he retreats. Quickly. He keeps replaying the look of pain and grief and rage in her eye, it rattles him to the core. He moves quickly and gets back to where he woke up within an hour and paces. Why does this keep happening? It can't be a coincidence. 

A week later his Ghost has located an old ship, together they'll be able to repair it enough to get out of here. They set off again and he tries to avoid the main areas while trying to dodge things that want to kill him. Though really, everything here seems hostile. How can a location that's so gorgeous be so threatening? But as he journeys, he begins to notice that this strange dark corruption has spread, like the hostility he's encountered manifested into poison in the air and the ground. It must just be here that's doing it, tainting people. Turning them into something they're not.

The walk to the ship is a long one, he travels only in the dead of night when no one else is around. There are new enemies here, ones that eye him carefully with guns cocked and ready. He avoids them, he loops around them until he and his little friend get clear of them. By the time he teaches the ship, unarmed and tired, the corruption has spread. Black blotches of energy decorate a wounded landscape until it seems like he's finally clear of it. 

"Let's go to the moon first," Ghost says, "it's nice, there should be lots of things to see if you'll let me show you"

He's itching to get to the City after everything he's heard but Ghost is just so endearing when he gets excited so he can't help but agree. By the time they get the ship repaired and are heading to the Moon he's feeling a lot better, they're free of the atmosphere of the strange darkness infused place and they're on the way to somewhere new.

They land and Ghost tells him to keep his eyes shut when they hit the surface. He's instructed to walk blindly out onto the surface, tilt his head up, and open his eyes. The sight is indescribable, a planet hovers in the sky above him, half of it shaded by darkness. He just stands there, eyes cast at the sky, for a long time. The stars in the sky speckle a haphazard line that dips down below the horizon. Ghost bumps up against his cheek affectionately and he smiles at him, murmuring a soft thank you. It really is lovely out here, all the stories Ghost told him couldn't compare. 

"Let's find you a weapon!" Ghost chirps, he follows eagerly as Ghost begins to tell him a little more about Light. They had spoken about it but he hadn't yet tried. Maybe he would.

He rounds a corner and there's a group of Guardians sitting around one another, chatting and eating and laughing. They all stop when they see him, they all stare him down. He sees all sorts of emotions across their faces. One looks horrified, another looks like he's wounded her somehow. Another just looks at him with disgust.

And that's what keeps happening. Everywhere he goes he gets those looks. The occasional person who would draw their gun and try to go after him. People avoided him and he didn't know why. He gets ahold of a weapon and gets good with it, he starts using Light and gets ahold of a helmet. He learns, too. He learns to stay away. But he tries. He lets his Ghost show him around the system. He sees the mountains of Venus, he walks through the rivers and streams that cut through Nessus, he climbs the ice caps of Enceladus, he swims in the ocean on Europa. And it's good, it really is. Slowly, it begins to feel hollow. He gets the same looks every time he sees anyone. It becomes a cycle of pain, every time he thinks he can walk freely he sees someone and gets those _looks_ again until he starts wearing the helmet more and more. Eventually, he doesn't take it off unless he's completely alone.

Its better to be alone. Then he doesn't need to worry, he doesn't have to keep seeing those sad scared angry expressions, the ones that shave another layer off of his defences. Bit by bit, he's being stripped down to a shell. He's an empty man with nothing beyond these memories of heartbreak and a Ghost who tries so hard. Soon, overlooking the strange city in a crater on Io and watching the auroras ripple overhead on Ganymede begins to feel stale. Anything he enjoys turns to ash in his hands and any small joy he found in destinations and sights and other worlds begin to feel sour. 

He lands on earth, finally, but he doesn't go to the City. He's firmly convinced that the City and all their joy is no place for him. He finds somewhere away from the City. It's been months since he woke up with no recollection of who he was and still no real clue. Beyond the Ghost that stays resolutely strong at his side, he has nothing and no one. Sometimes he runs his fingers over the silk sheets and wonders what he was and where he came from. He wonders if he was alone then, too, or if he had friends. He imagines what it might be like to have another companion, people he could talk to.

Whenever he gets too deep Ghost will nudge him to take him out of it. Sometimes he wishes he could just stay in it. It would be easier, faceless companions that don't look at him like he's something he's not in his head will never tear him down. He craves it like a man in a desert yearns for water. He curls in on himself and remains where he is, hidden and secure. 

He's been here a couple of weeks, Ghost told him about the Dawning and he still longs for something like hope to get him through. He just wants to see, just once, just for that chance of a good time. He's been running out of fuel for a long time and it's beginning to feel like he's hit terminal velocity; like he's very quickly running out of time. The Guardian just has no idea what's waiting for him at the end of the fall. He wears the sheet around his body to hide his dented gear so no one recognizes him and, finally, enters the City.

In those streets, he meets a storm. It bubbles within him even though passersby don't spare him a second look, they barely notice him. What he's endured haunts him, though, each person who smiles as he passes twist into those hateful sad expressions. It's hard to handle. He sticks it out for as long as he can before it becomes too much. Someone could remove the helmet, they could see his face. Someone could see through the cover or recognize some small part of him and _react_. Just like everyone else. So he ducks his head and turns back the way he came, he's going to leave and he isn't going to return. He was right, the City is no place for someone like him. 

"We should go to the Tower" Ghost suggests as they leave back into the safety of the night beyond the walls.

"No," he responds sharply, Ghost sags at that.

"No one will recognize you!" His furious hope is back, he shakes his head at the little drone. "Just for a few minutes, the decorations are always so lovely. You should see it, you'll enjoy it."

He's been hard on himself, he's assumed there's something fundamentally wrong with him or he is flawed somehow. Or, worse, whatever he was before now was some kind of monster. It's hard to keep his head up when it feels like he's sinking. He can not change a past he doesn't even know, but he can see the hopefulness in his little friend, he can see the way he is trying s _o_ hard and as much as he would rather try to sleep until it's over, he nods.

The Tower really is lovely. The decorations are extravagant and comforting, the lights are bright and the Traveler hangs above. There's snow and joy and light all around him. The Traveler itself is majestic and something about it feels almost like home but it slips out of his grasp too fast for him to catch it. He had to be worthy of something if it chose him, right? All this can't mean nothing, this being that granted all this Light and hope and strength can't have made a mistake. But it did. 

He walks slowly, avoiding anyone's gaze. It's late and thankfully, not many are around. He knows it won't last long, the clock is ticking quickly. He will get out of here soon, he just wants to chase that bit of peace and hope he felt so fleetingly. Ghost was wrong, though. He can't enjoy this, not when he knows there's a problem. He heads to out to the edge of the railing and stares down at the City in all its glory. He just watches for a little too long, taking in all these things he simply can't have or enjoy. There is so much activity down there, trains and people and buildings and lights and all these things that he can't—

"Hello, my dear," a voice says. An older woman he had passed by on the way to the edge is smiling at him and he almost recoils. He isn't so sure the action went unnoticed. "Come here, come here, I haven't seen you around before." 

Despite his better judgement, he obeys, he takes a few steps towards her. The smile is false, her expression will change once she sees his face. "Happy Dawning, my friend. The Tower welcomes you," she sounds so earnest, he says nothing. He's become cynical, though, he turns away, it doesn't feel safe here. He doesn't want to interact with anyone. "Wait, come back," but he's already getting the hell out of there and once they're in the dark it's the first time his Gjost looks genuinely upset. The expression doesn't last for as long as the Guardian broods for. He curls back up in the shipping container and is content to just be. Alone and safe. He swallows down the hurt bitterness at himself, it's not fair of him to hurt his Ghost, too, but that seems to be all he's here for. To hurt and to bring hurt. He hides his head in his arms over his knees and ignores the way Ghost finds his way between his elbow and hand.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep. He wakes up to a setting sun outside the crate. Ghost nudges him cheerfully, back to his normal self. He offers him a shadow of a smile, it's the most he can come up with. He starts a small fire in the gap between two containers, it's a decent size and its hidden enough that the little bit of light shouldn't attract someone. He just watches it, exhausted even though he's done nothing. When he hears footsteps just beyond the security of old metal he gets the helmet on as fast as he can but can't stomp out the fire in time. The woman from the Tower slips into the gap between the steel structures, he tenses.

"I am so sorry for intruding like this," she says kindly, "I have a gift for you, you left too quickly for me to give it to you."

He shakes his head, on his feet with the fire between them like a wounded animal, cornered and trying just to stay alive. At least this woman won't try to kill him, she is unarmed. If she tries anything he can fight back. There's a box in a bag looped over her arm he's never seen. "May I?" She asks, theres no malice in her voice but there will be. He shakes his head again, but Ghost drifts towards her and hovers between them. 

"Its okay," he says, the Guardian just tried to quell the way his bones seem to rattle.

The woman takes his Ghosts words as approval and walks towards him, she avoids the fire and oh so carefully pulls the box out of the bag. She hands it to him and, with no other way to get out of this, he takes it. It's heavy, despite how the box isn't that big. With one hand he opens it, slow, how did she even find him? He doesn't trust that this isn't something that will kill him slowly and painfully. 

Inside is a small plate wrapped in decorative wrapping, he can see some kind of baked treats beyond the clear patterned plastic but it's hard to tell in this light. Under it is a bundle of cloth, he takes the plate out with shaking fingers and she offers her hand to hold it while he goes to look at the fabric. She holds the box for him as he pulls it out, it's long and thick and decorated with some of the same patterns he saw in the Tower. It's a cloak - just for him. 

He sinks down to his knees, holding the gift in his hands. Eyes wide under the helmet, he doesn't notice when she sets the plate back in the box and puts it to the side. He does notice when she puts her hands gently on either side of the helmet, he freezes and almost pushes her away. It is best to not get attached to this gift, it's about to be taken away. He allows her to remove the helmet, he doesn't look up at her until its off. He can feel the hair plastered to his forehead. "My poor boy, you haven't had an easy time in this life, have you?" And her voice sounds so strained, she kneels in front of him and does the most unheard of thing, she puts her arms around him and draws him in close. "It's okay, old Eva is here."

When she strokes his hair he gives in. He doesn't say a word but each breath hitches in his chest while tears slip freely down his cheeks. This is the first time he's found one small piece of humanity he didn't think could ever be reserved for him. But here she was, kind and soothing and warm and everything he's been missing. "Why?" He finally gets out, exhausted by the sheer act of emotion. 

"The Dawning welcomes everyone, dear, regardless of who or what you may or may not have been." She holds him by the shoulders and pulls back enough to look at him. She's without an ounce of malice as she smiles at him, it's entirely genuine. There's a sorrow that isn't twisted with hate in her eyes, too, one that for him, not because of him. It's pure. She gently brushes the hair from his forehead and kisses that spot. 

"Come on now, up you get. Get your things and come with me." She stands and offers him his hand, he takes it with a heart full of something for the first time since he can remember. Ghost almost vibrates with happiness.

She takes him to her home and heats him up a plate of food and sets up a blanket and a pillow on the couch. She hands him the plate and tells him to make herself at home before retreating to bed. Her home is filled with little trinkets and gifts. He eats and finds himself in the little kitchen an hour later with his hands braced on the sink, he asks his Ghost how she found him.

"She always says the Dawning is for everyone," he replies. "Even you."

He turns to the little drone, admiring the colour of his shell and his bright little lens. He offers him a hand and Ghost gladly sinks into it, he holds his friend close and thanks him. 

In the morning she wakes him up with another plate of food, this time freshly cooked. She piles more goodies in another box for him and tells him he can stay if he wants. But he doesn't want to but he promises he will visit. This City is still no place for him but he's found one small piece of salvation where he can simply be who he is without judgement. He wears the cloak out the door and she returns to her spot in the Tower. He thinks he can find his way now, he found a friend and knowing there is at least one person in this cruel universe who does not hate him is _enough_. He visits her a few weeks later and she is still happy to see him, he's comfortable without the helmet.

Whoever he was, whatever he did, whoever he hurt; he isn't him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Special shoutout to Schnikeys for a chat we had that helped inspire the ending!
> 
> This turned out a whole lot different than I anticipated it would, I meant to go full-on angst. Either way, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Have a Happy Dawning ♡


End file.
